


Sweet Cigarette Smoke

by Unflavored (acrylicpjm)



Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anti gay slurs, Anxiety Attacks, But it won’t get addressed for a little while, Child Abuse, Crossdressing, DO NOT READ IF THE FOLLOWING TAGS UPSET YOU, David finds himself after going through HELL, David gets the dick he deserves, Dick and Lewis are the gay uncles, F/M, Homophobia, Hoob is oblivious but helpful, Lieb is soft, Lieb is stubborn and kinda rude but it also gets better, Lipton is a mom, M/M, Nothing new here, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Assault, Personal Growth, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Social Anxiety, Underage Drinking, finding yourself, it gets so much better i promise, not by much though, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27923293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrylicpjm/pseuds/Unflavored
Summary: David Kenyon Webster didn’t know what to expect his first year of college. All his life he’d been cooped up in his parents’ overly lavish and refined mansion with too many books to read and too many expectations to live up to.Joseph Liebgott was a 25 year old bartender with nothing better to do than smoke Lucky Strikes and find pretty boys at the bar on the weekends to fuck. He was content with his life, his ma called him everyday and his pockets weren’t close to running dry. There wasn’t anything he wanted for until a blue eyed, smart mouthed college boy winds up at his bar with tears in his eyes.
Relationships: Carwood Lipton/Ronald Speirs, George Luz/Joseph Toye, Johnny Martin/Bull Randleman, Joseph Liebgott/David Kenyon Webster, Lewis Nixon/Richard Winters
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

The only thing David could register in his jet lagged brain was how bright California was. It was a big difference compared to the only life he had known in New York where the beginning of autumn was normally paired with bleak skies and dropping temperatures. But the sky of California was a bright blue without a cloud in sight, and his awkward trip off the last step of the plane that still had his back burning in embarrassment was straight into what felt like a summer day. New York was bright with all of its advertisements and bustling people, its yellow cabs and colorful people who could spit just as colorful of words, but California was something so different. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It was so much different than the frigid walls of the Webster Manor tucked inside a prim gated community with neighbors that flashed fake little smiles in their perfect clothes and supposedly perfect lives. The people here were just as bright as the beautiful murals painted on nearly every piece of brick and concrete. David could tell some were college students with their iced coffees and relaxed demeanor and their little clusters of friends that always seemed to be laughing. He wanted to be one of them. He wanted to be as bright as the world he hadn’t been able to see.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Despite the great wealth his family had from their exploits as lawyers and doctors and business endeavors, David hardly ever saw those luxuriously overpriced vacations his family would take in the early summer or the business trips around the world that normally caused his parents to disappear for a week or two. His earlier memories mention a few, mostly filled with unknown faces of the countless caregivers his parents hired to raise him and his brother. He was eleven when he went one of those gaudy hunting trips with his big brother and his father. After the ending of the first one of David scaring off the deer by firing his oversized rifle in the air, his father didn’t invite him on one again, something about him being too ‘sissified’. The very last was just before his thirteenth birthday which just so happened to be when he was caught kissing his best friend- best  _ male _ friend in the closet of his bedroom. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ The thin lines of light trickling into the dark closet was all David needed to see the black curly hair of his best friend, Aaron, who was perched down next to him, both avoiding each other’s eyes and blushed at the cheeks in the way only kids like themselves could be. Aaron’s sharp elbow was digging into his side but David couldn’t find himself to mind. He was too busy worrying if there was blue icing left on his lips or if Aaron took notice to his chubby stomach. Things he’d never worried about before, but he felt almost as if he had to. His classmate and crush was perfect. More filled out than any of the other puberty distressed boys with acne dotting their face and limbs too lanky for their own good. No, he was like a god compared to them with his deep voice and muscles that were tight under his dark skin from baseball practice. His dreamy brown eyes always looked at David differently than the other kids. He wasn’t mean to him like some were, he always listened to him ramble on about different topics he’d become enamored with while reading in his parents’ library. Aaron was good, so so good, and David kept him far too close to his heart.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Aaron held his hand and made the bad thoughts go away. He told the funniest stories and waited for him after every class. And for that, David was sure he was in love. Even if it was wrong, no matter the slimy stories of people like him ‘getting what they deserved’, he couldn’t stop himself from loving the boy next to him.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “I got you something for your birthday, David.” Aaron whispered to him sweetly or as sweet as a thirteen year old could.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ The deep blush on David’s face somehow burned hotter and he sheepishly smiled in response, “You didn’t have to get me anyth-“  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Soft lips fell onto his in a clumsy and uncertain push before David could even begin to process what was happening. His crush, his favorite person in the world was kissing him like how he thought he could only dream. He pressed back against him and felt his eyes fall closed. It was nice, Aaron smelled nice and even though it was a juvenile and awkward excuse for a kiss, he felt fire under his skin.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “David probably has a-“ The golden handle of the door turned too quickly for them to realize and before them stood his mother in all of her harshly pinned up glory, her falsely joyous voice coming to a screeching halt.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Behind her was a gaping Mrs. Quentin, Aaron’s mother, whose painted red lips were frozen in a gasp. David’s head cracked against the wall as he pushed himself away from Aaron who was just as terrified, hurrying himself up and out of the little closet and away from his friend.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “What in heaven’s name is going on here?!” His mother clutched at her chest, horrified.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ All he could hear was the panicked race of his heart beat and all he wanted to do was disappear. But the feeling he felt when Aaron, with an equally as terrified yet somehow angry expression, began spouting out the most vile things David had ever heard in his life.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “He’s a queer! David’s a fag!” Aaron, sweet, sweet Aaron shouted as fast as he could, “I couldn’t stop him-“  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Mrs. Quentin was a woman David always wished was his own mom. She was kind and always had the most pretty smiles, she always seemed proud of her children no matter what it was, her touches gentle and patient, and now was like no other. She had eyes like Aaron’s, brown and like pools of expression, her’s were filled with masked anger and with a protectiveness David had never seen before. Her soft hands clasped around her son’s burning cheeks and with her soft yet firm voice asked, “What is it he did, baby? Tell me.”  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Aaron spoke with no hesitation, no pause to think, no pity taken upon the boy quivering on the floor, “David pulled me into the closet and tried to touch me! He kissed me and told me not to tell anyone!” He licked his lips and with no remorse, he finished, “He’s a queer and he tried to make me one too.”  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Hot tears fell down David’s cheeks and sobs let loose from his chest. It was like the air was punched out of his lungs and his throat pinched closed. “No, no, no, I didn’t, I didn’t!” He screamed at the top of his lungs and only breathing in wet gasps that burned him inside.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Mrs. Quentin’s eyes narrowed and a hiss left her perfectly white teeth. They fixed upon the crying boy on the floor and David knew she would have struck him if not for his mother being in her way. Mrs. Webster was shaking her head furiously back and forth, her hands together as if praying, probably for a better son to replace the faggot on the ground.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “I-I’m so, so sorry! I never- I never knew he was-“ Mrs. Webster had her own tears falling down her now not so impeccably blushed cheeks, the rouge smearing and making her look almost human. “I never knew he was a queer, I’m so sorry, I never would have let this happen!”  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Mrs. Quentin huffed, “My child was just preyed upon by that disgusting pig of a son of yours. I’ll be taking this to the authorities!”  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ David sobbed even louder and pulled his knees up to his chest as if that would protect him, as if that would shield him from the screams of disgust coming from the two women. By now, he wouldn’t be surprised if more people came to see what the commotion was about and ogle at the faggot crying in the closet. He wanted to look up at Aaron and scream at him. How could he do this to him? Why couldn’t he have just told the truth? But then that would make Aaron a fag like him. And fags don’t make it where they come from.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “Don’t! This is- This isn’t-“ Mrs. Webster stuttered, “Money. Name your price.”  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Mrs. Quentin was suddenly more composed. Her hand clutching her son’s cheeks now were folded over one another over her chest and a sadistic smirk pulled over her teeth. But then David stopped watching, stopped hearing as they bargained over him and bickered at how much his pathetic life was.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ He could have almost thought he was asleep when his mother’s red claws stabbed into his arm and yanked him up from the ground. David winced at her narrowed blue eyes, the ones he’d gotten from her. The slap against his cheek stung like a bitch, but the heavy footsteps that belonged to his father’s were coming up the stairs. It was going to be much worse.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “Jonathan!  _ Jonathan!”  _ Anne screamed out and her grip only got tighter.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ His father was a daunting man and his big brother was a spitting image. They both were dressed in their finely pressed and immaculate suits, evidently fresh from their father’s office. It must have been nighttime by now, he knew neither were going to stick around for his birthday party, so the house had to have been empty. No one was going to see or hear what was about to happen.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ A part of David thought he deserved it. Fuck, more than a part. All of him. He deserved every smack to the face his father dealt him, every kick to the ribs, every punch to the gut, he deserved every bit. His brother and mother watched it unfold, his cries for daddy to stop and for mommy to help fell on deaf ears.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “No son of mine is going to be a fag, and no son of mine is going to poison the family name.” Jonathan Webster’s large hands wrapped around David’s throat, his son’s bloodied face not doing so much as making him flinch, “You hear me?! Do you?!” The hands disappeared and so did the incessant click of his mother’s heels.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Through his busted lip, gushing nose, and weak conscience, he whined, “Bubby, help me, help me…” _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ But the sound of expensive dress shoes followed his parents. And he was left in the dark. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ After that, school was a living hell. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ It took a week for David to be fit for school again. The bruises were hidden under his clothes and his mother had gripped at his hair until he could recite a plausible excuse for his busted lip and black eye. It was almost painfully obvious what happened though, no one gets wrecked by falling off your bike. It would be even more obvious to people who knew what happened on the day of David’s birthday, but he sent a prayer to whatever god there was that no one knew and that Aaron would just let him be.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Things were never that easy though. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Walking through the double doors into the packed hallways of the all boys school gave David a dead ringer that despite the bribe his mother had given Mrs. Quentin, Aaron had told and by the time it took him to come back to school, everyone knew. Everyone knew why he wasn’t there.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ No eyes were sympathetic, no one to take pity on him or even better, ignore him like they once did. It was almost comical the way they all had to stop and stare at the faggot that had the audacity to come back to school after what he did to their star baseball player. David could only keep his head down to find his locker and ignore the way people sneered in disgust and recoiled away from him as if he had some sort of contagious disease. His locker was just down the hall, just get down the hall, just get- _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “Where is the little queer headed off to, huh?” That voice, he knew that voice from anywhere. He used to give anything to hear it. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Aaron grinned at him, those pearly white teeth clenched in a snarl. His eyes were predatory and David didn’t have to be a genius to know he was the prey. His friends behind him mirrored that, looking like sharks that smelled blood in the water. And oh, did he know there would be blood at the end of this.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “No response? Your mouth was sure trying to get around my cock last week, didn’t seem so shy then.” Aaron growled and took a hold of David’s thin forearm, the one with a distinct pattern of bruise his father’s dress shoes left, and yanked him right back around.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ David cried out, tears threatening to boil over, “N-No, no, I didn’t do that! You’re lying!”  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “Why the fuck would I lie about you, Webster? The boys already told me they caught you peeking at ‘em in the lockers.” Gasps reigned out around them and David wanted to just die. Just let it all go.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ But then everyone suddenly stopped and went back about their business, Aaron and his friends looking behind David with their mouths now shut. The boy didn’t have to turn around to know one of the nuns was making their rounds.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “This isn’t over.” Aaron whispered to him before him and his little group took off with their tails between their legs. But David knew he would be so lucky next time. And he was right.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ It had been during P.E and only when he felt the hand around his mouth did he realize he should have known what was coming. He should have been smart enough to find a bathroom or a closet and hide until his next period. But it was far too late to be thinking about that now with the wide palm around his jaw and the other holding his wrists together with a deep chuckle in his ear.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ He immediately thought it was Aaron ready to hold tight to what he’d said in the hallway, but the voice whispering to him was not his, but David knew this voice too.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Mr. Bartlet, the assistant P.E and baseball coach.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ His mind was screaming and pleading and crying, but he couldn’t move. He could only feel his skin burning from the tight hold the man had on him and how his wedding ring dug into his skin.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“...ster. Mr. Webster?” The nasally voice of the cab driver called out to him once again. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The drowning of his memories left him as soon as they came. Back here he was again, inside a dark leathered vehicle on his way to his new college, his bags filling the trunk and his head swimming from jet lag. He was here. Now, not then. He was okay. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The light pouring in from outside seemed even worse now and it didn’t help the blooming pounding in the back of his head. His right shoulder and neck ached with a rigid soreness and his folded legs were painfully numb. His sweatshirt was twisted around and uncomfortable on his skin, the waist of his jeans digging into his belly and making him wince as he flexed his body to try and relieve the tension in his body. Had he fallen asleep? What time was it? 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Mr. Webster!” The driver’s pitched voice bellowed, this time shaking David from his useless and confused thoughts. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The college student grimaced and felt his cheeks heat up, “I- Sorry, I think I dozed off.” David pinched the inside of his thigh. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He could see the driver whose name he’d forgotten back at the airport refrain from rolling his eyes. “Well, Mr. Webster, we have arrived at our destination. I’ll be getting your bags while you… Adjust yourself.” The car door slammed so loud it made him recoil and followed by the sound of the trunk. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Despite the feeling of embarrassment heating his back, butterflies began to burst in his stomach like they had when the rickety plane took off back in New York. Outside waiting for him was his future, the new beginning he’d been dreaming about since the first time a kid at school bloodied his nose in the P.E locker room, the fresh start David had been planning for years. The bright sun shining in on his pale skin felt so warm and inviting, just like he’d imagined and took away the cold ache in his fingertips. It made him feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Hope. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A harsh knock on the car window from the driver’s gnarled knuckle made David snap out of his musing and hastily snap open the car door. Impatience rolled off the driver in waves, his thick eyebrows furled in annoyance. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Good day, Mr. Webster.” With a snap of his wrist, the man’s dark attire disappeared back into the vehicle and sped down the dark pavement.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Left behind was a boy and his dreams, his clothes and his notebook. And that boy? He’d never felt more free yet trapped, happy yet positively scared before in his entire life. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hated writing this chapter so much that I skipped it until I finished the other one.

The campus, David had come to find out, was way too fucking big. Like, way too fucking big. 

There were cream buildings everywhere he turned and people bustling in and out of them with big book bags weighing on their backs or some with coffees in hand all filing against one another. Idle chatter and laughs escaping them all filled the air though some looked more worse for wear than the others. A warm breeze flew past him and ruffled the white crumpled paper in his hand as he tried to navigate the little black lines and words. 

Deep breaths, one in, one out. 

His choice of sweatshirt and jeans would have been fine for the chilling weather back in New York, but the sun felt as if it were beating down on his back and pulling out the beginning of sweat on his back. The long sleeves fell past his fingers as he clutched the guide relentlessly and his teeth dug into the plump flesh of his lip. The duffle bag he had slung over his shoulder to hip and suitcase he was dragging behind him were feeling heavier and heavier by the second. 

David wanted to whine in his throat, he really wanted to have a temper tantrum, but the feeling of warmth over his back was growing hotter and hotter. The talk around him was so loud as some students were sprawled out on the cool grass with their friends or others loitering the shade of the trees planted here and there. They all seemed so calm, so relaxed in this big atmosphere of strangers that also didn’t seem to bother with anyone else’s presence but their own. And that scared the living shit out of him. 

He wanted his dorm room. He wanted to curl up and ball up into a little pathetic lump and cry until his first class. But that was dramatic. Even he knew that. 

But he knew how people were. He’d been to only two of his parents’ dinner parties, but the looks he got and the pinches to his side from his mother gave him just the idea of how they could be. David knew the students lounging around the campus weren’t those callous businessmen and women who lurked those dreadful gatherings, they were far too poorly dressed, but he didn’t want to know the reactions he’d get if he dared try to act like them. One thing he could always count on were the side eyes, the chuckles behind the hands, and the smirks those rich bastards would pull. David didn’t know what these people were capable of yet. 

His clumsy footsteps fell against the gray pavement and his blue eyes were pinned to the shaky grip he had on the pamphlet, but that was soon changed as the air was knocked out of his lungs at the feelings of a hard push against his chest. His mind couldn’t even stop to realize what he’d just done before he was on the ground. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Oh, shit! I’m sorry!” A flash of ruddy brown hair brought him back from the chants of curse words he wanted to spew. 

Above him was a concerned looking man, one around his age with reddish hair and green eyes that could nearly spell out pity. His fingers were decorated with a few little silver rings that were all different sizes and hues. The man’s palm was outstretched but it took David a moment to register just what that meant. Help. Up. Stop staring at his hands. 

David hesitantly pressed his palm to the stranger’s. It was warm and soft and firmly wrapped around his own. It was comforting somehow, even from a stranger, but as soon as his feet were right under him he snatched his own hand away and made as much distance as possible. He could feel just how much sweat was on his palms and how this handsome stranger was probably watching him in disgust. His cheeks were no doubt ruddy and pink from both embarrassment and the hot sun, his hair was probably greasy and unkempt from the hot wind. Worse for wear was the simplest he could think of to put it into words how he felt, inside and out. 

“Hey, hey, are you alright?” The stranger’s green eyes were dark with worry and with deliberate steps he pushed forward. 

David’s mouth felt like it was overtaken by cotton. His body reigned back as the stranger continued his determined pursuit of getting closer, of examining his body like he likely was before colliding with the other, a white binder plastered up against his side. The man’s white shoes scuffed up against the pavement and made high pitched squeaks. David took a deep breath in, only to keep himself from protesting, as silver ringed fingers wrapped around his wrist once more in a gentle tug.

“Fuck, dude, I’m so sorry.” He apologized once more in his sheepish voice. “I can’t watch where the hell I’m going for shit.” Pearly white teeth flashed at him with a humor bubbling in his smile that made David’s ears perk. 

That’s when the nineteen year old finally got a good look at him. His skin was golden and tan. It was like the honey David used to sneak back home in the kitchen with bubbling brown freckles passing right over his nose in great patches. His pink lips were stretched thin in a warm smile that made his knees feel weak. His clothing was simple, plain and obviously meant for comfort, but his black basketball shorts and white t-shirt looked amazing stretched over his broad shoulders and long legs. The eyes staring back into his own were straight out of a book. Murky and green like the leaves on a tree. 

“It-It was my fault, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking.” David’s chest pulled uncomfortably tight as he snapped out of his reverie. His bags were sprawled out on the ground in disarray, his overfilled duffle bag had torn on the side with his books spilling out onto the concrete.

Adam’s Street, then Dove Lane, then Brighton Avenue, then- 

The wind bit at his pinkened cheeks with the teeth of a dog. The leaves crunching on the ground from his clumsy footfalls fell against the sniffles of his cherry red nose. The snapping and swaying of the bare trees above him cracked with the bitter smell of rain in the air. His shoulders pulsed in pain and protested the great weight of his school books that were crammed into the small space of his backpack. Chills ran up and down his spine like a spider from the bitter cold that went right through the thin fabric of his sweater. A drop of wetness hit the back of his neck and made him cringe. It would be pouring down raining any minute, but it was better than taking the bus. Anything was better than taking the bus.

The first time he’d tried to ride the bus resulted in him getting his shirt soaked in water when he tried to sit down next to someone, someone who he thought was his friend. The very last time he tried to ride the bus, this time smarter than to think anyone was his friend, his feet were ripped out from under him and his back was stomped on until the bus driver decided he’d had enough. 

Since then it was a long trip on the sidewalk until he finally got home. It wouldn’t have been so long if not for the detours he made around where his classmates normally walked. Around the schoolyard and wait until the second bell rings behind the dumpsters where he would remain for the third and final bell and hopefully then every last student would have been on their way. After that, it was a game of paranoia and looking behind his shoulder every few minutes. He had to linger behind the other students, and walk a block off from the main route to his house, David fearing they would eventually catch onto his schemes and try to catch him then. 

It had all been working well, very well, far too well for a month. It was the tail end of November and just as the weather always was that time of year, it was bitterly cold and numbed the tips of his fingers and toes, raining for days on end and soaking his clothes through more often than not. But David would endure it all to avoid what would happen to him if he were to keep riding the bus, to try and walk alongside the other students. It was horrible during the day, the teasing, the looks, how they would put their hands all over him and leave those awful pink stings and purple bruises. But that was all under the eyes of the teachers and the nuns who David knew didn’t particularly care as long as it stayed without his retaliation. 

The young boy obviously had a rough idea of what would happen to him. Instead of waiting for David in the changing rooms or finding him in the restrooms, they’d be able to go at him without a care if he cried too much or if they’d be caught and punished. It would be without any obstacles or boundaries, no disturbances that would stain their perfect records or get them kicked off the team. Maybe someone might see them from inside their house, maybe someone might stop them, but he’d heard it all before. 

Boys will be boys. 

But he’d been able to evade them for a month now and soon it would be Christmas break where David planned to stay hiding in his room until the maids woke him up to unbox the useless gifts his parents’ had got him that year. And then he’d rinse and repeat. Avoid everyone at all cost until the weather would get warmer and the days longer. 

A cold drop of rain fell onto his cheek as the wind whistled and thrashed the rickety tree limbs like rag dolls. A flash of lightning lit the dark grey of the sky like a firework. It made David look up just in time to see the pristine beige of harshly pressed khakis and the navy blue of the school’s colors.

David knew who it was before he even got to look at the man’s face. His hood was up, something he always got in trouble for at school, and his hands shoved in his pockets, all the while sauntering between his two friends. They were snickering about something like they always were. Their smiles always scared the hell out of him. It was rare did David see them smiling about anything other than the chance at calling him a faggot or pushing him against the lockers while brushing past in the hallway. And now was no different. His blood ran cold at the way their grins twisted and eyes lit up as they noticed him. 

Aaron only had to holler out one command before their tennis shoes were squeaking against the wet pavement. “Get him!”

David felt his heart stop and shudder in his chest. The gasp of air he took stung his throat like a shot of whiskey and the roll of thunder got his feet moving. The harsh swing of the heavy bag on his back made him wince, but the sound of them laughing behind him was too close for him to try and slow down. His heart pounded in his chest like the banging of the drum. His lungs burned and his side pulled tight as his long strides hit the ground despite his body’s protest. Muscles burning from the shoves he endured throughout the day, the ‘accidental’ falls he took onto the hard tile in class, all ached as he tried to tune out the hits of the shoes behind him. He had no idea where he was running. Maybe he could try to lose them around whatever neighborhood they’d end up in and try to hide until they got bored of cat and mouse, but the chances of his escape were snuffed out like a candle. 

It was like he was a dog whose owner had snagged his leash. His feet were pulled right out from under him as the hands that collided with his body multiplied. The collar of his pullover dug into his neck and strangled his cry of pain. Joyous laughter from the assailants rang out into the air and the thundering of the storm that had settled in. 

David’s throat burned with the scream he let out when he felt his feet lift out from under him. He couldn’t even try to swing back or try to escape before his body collided with the ground like a rag doll. The surge of pain he felt was like a flip to a switch. He didn’t even remember closing his eyes as he laid eye to eye with the concrete. A small puddle of blood streaked out in front of him and his cheek burned so hot, his skull felt like it was hit with a sledgehammer, but it paled in comparison to the agony that was radiating from his left ankle. His eyes shakily widened to see his left leg curled beneath him but his vision quickly went blurry as tears flooded down his cheeks. 

The confusion and shock that the burning pain gave him didn’t even allow his mind to register the colorful blurs above him. The rain pouring down made it so hard to hear, he felt so overwhelmed, like a lost puppy in the rain. When a stomp was dealt to the side of his ribs, all he could do was curl onto himself and pray they would stop. Another blow, this time right to the side of his head then another and another until he couldn’t count keep track. Pathetic, his mind screamed even over the cries for mercy, so he closed his eyes and heaved his breaths. He didn’t want to watch his blood get washed away by the rain. 

“That’s good, that’s good, alright?!” A voice bellowed above him, one familiar over the torrential pour. 

“Goddamn it, shut up! I’m not done!” No matter how tightly David had twisted in on himself, he felt two cold hands wretch him over. “Just fucking leave! I’ll do it myself, you pussies.” And they did, not without lingering with their eyes poised on the shake in Aaron’s limbs or how he didn’t even flinch at the blood that was pouring out of David’s cheek. 

The man above sneered at him. His head shook back and forth and a mantra of ‘no, no, no’ fell from between his lips. “Please, please, no, please-“ Aaron’s deep brown eyes were dark, so much darker than when he would wait for David after class and tell his jokes, darker than when he leaned in and kissed him over a year ago. 

“You-“ Aaron seemed to choke on his words, “Little faggots like you get what they deserve.” His voice shook but David didn’t know if it was from anger or fear. 

Aaron descended upon him like a vulture. His eyes were red and his fists shook at his sides with pure anger. It scared him, scared him more than the dread of going to school, more than even the fear he felt when he seen them turning the corner. It reminded him of the fear he felt when he accidentally looked his father in the eye. “You even fondled Mr. Bartlet when I didn’t give you what you wanted.” David shook his head faster, his cheeks burned from shame. It hurt worse than the cut on his cheek, the bruises on his ribs, and the fire in his ankle. 

This wasn’t the Aaron that held his hand when no one was looking. This wasn’t the Aaron that hugged him after every game, that walked him to class, that made him smile when he felt so lonely. He didn’t know who this was or why this stranger wanted to hurt him so bad and took pleasure in his pain. 

“I will make every second of your life a living hell until you get the fuck out of here.” His voice was a dark growl, one David could barely make out through the harsh gushes of wind. “I’ll tell your daddy all about how much of a whore you are at school. I’ll tell everyone about how you wanted me to fuck you. It’s what you deserve. You tried to make me a faggot too, but it didn’t work, so stop doing it!” His face was inches away from his. 

David’s weak hands were pressed against his chest and tried to push him away. “I didn’t do anything, please, please, Aaron-“ 

That was his mistake. This wasn’t his Aaron. He would never be his Aaron again.

His shoe came crashing into the side of David’s cheek and blood came spurting out the seams of his lips like a waterfall. The ringing was back. The blur was worse than before. Pain in his gums and a foreign weight on is tongue almost made him choke. The coppery taste of blood had him dry heaving like a sick cat. His entire being throbbed from the torment as he would for weeks, just like the times before. And all he was left with was the haze of Aaron’s figure turning away from him and the mess he’d made of David. Like an afterthought. As if nothing had happened. 

His limbs felt too heavy to move like lead weights were attached to each arm and leg. The rain had long soaked through the thin pullover and khakis he’d worn and had him shivering against the freezing concrete. David let a sob fall from between his lips. Cry, that was all he seemed to do. Cry like a child who was lost in the dark. Sleep like a man whose days stretched longer than a human could take. He wanted his warm bed where he could cry until he passed out. And like every other time, he did. He tried to reach out an arm to hoist his top half up, mindful of his ribs that were pulsing with his heartbeat that wouldn’t quiet in his ears. But a gasp raddled his body when he tried to move his legs. The jostle of his ankle made him seize his muscles and cradle his knee in defeat. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He whined into his soaked pants. 

He just wanted to go home. He just wanted to stop hurting and rest from the pain and stop crying all the time- 

The ache in his jaw and the sight of a small white dot against the grey of the ground made him realize just what Aaron had done to him. It was so tiny compared to the ripped mess his backpack had become. Soggy papers and books scattered across the way, but it made David want to throw up. One of his front teeth was laying next to him as his mouth was filled with blood. The shake in his bones only got worse at the morbid detail. The empty hole gaping in his mouth throbbed even harder as he looked on in horror. 

He cried even harder into the swell of his knee. Rain hit his back and wind numbed his fingers without mercy. Exhaustion was beginning to settle in his cold bones, but the last piece of sense he had knew he couldn’t stay there. With whatever self preservation he had he at least didn’t want to die of hypothermia on a sidewalk with his teeth kicked out and his ankle busted. He only had one option left and it laid in the tattered mess of his backpack. His phone hopefully was crammed between enough of his books to save it from the downpour. He couldn’t call his father, he definitely wouldn’t answer and as with his mom, she wouldn’t listen to him. If he was lucky, his brother would be home by now, David at least knew he wouldn’t decline his call, even if they weren’t like they used to. 

The cold metal of his phone stung his hands as he tried to hunch over it in an attempt to save it from the rain. The shake of his hands clumsily pressed at the bright screen, fumbling nearly enough to drop it. ‘Eric’, the name glowed and made him wince. His thumb hovered as his vision swam and tears washed away with the rain. The ring rattled his head like a hammer.

The sound of the call’s connection made a breath he didn’t know he was holding burst from his lungs. His chest stuttered through the shaky hello he greeted his brother with.

“David?” Eric questioned him with his voice filled with worry, “David, what’s wrong? You’re not here yet.”

The boy sucked in a breath, “I-I need you to c-come get me. M-My ankle, I-I can’t walk.” He shouted into his phone over the roar of the rain. 

There was a pause on the other end. The silence cut through him like a knife to butter. He could count on his brother no matter what at one point in time, but now was not then. The house had become divided ever since what happened last year. Ever since his mother had to write a check to keep him from ruining the family name and ever since he had to lay unconscious in his own blood from his father, he and his brother were never as they once were. 

“Where are you?” Eric’s tone was a quiet one that David was familiar with. Resignation. 

But it was better than laying on the sidewalk soaked to the bone. 

The black lacquer of his brother’s sleek car was the shining light of David’s day. The engine was as loud as the thunder that had been making him jump for the past few minutes. His phone was all he’d attempted to hold on to while he cried into the crook of his arms under the pelt of rain. His skin felt numb everywhere and his ankle only got worse. The throb was everywhere, his head, his arms, his mouth, his legs, but his ankle felt like it was worked out of place. He’d screamed into his wet sleeve until his throat ached.

“Fuck, David!” The slam of a car door made him look up, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

The tall figure of his brother came barreling towards him. Eric crouched down and wrapped his arms around David and hoisted him up into his hold. The harsh smell of his brother’s cologne overwhelmed his senses, but he couldn’t stop himself from burying his head into his neck as the tears rolled down his cheeks. He yelped as his ankle was jostled in his brother’s sprint to the other side of the car. The cursed uttered under his breath multiplied as he struggled to open the door before shoving him onto the seat. David suppressed a scream as his ankle snapped against the floorboard and his head rocked against the headrest. 

The blur of his brother running around the front of his car made his head spin and before he could upright himself in his seat, Eric was slamming his door shut and pulling off his black coat and draping it over his torso. 

“You’re freezing, Davie, what the fuck happened?” His hands fiddled at the dashboard until heat erupted from the vents. 

David sucked in a breath and pawed at his red eyes, “I-I was- I fell. I wasn’t wat-watching where I was going. And I fell.” 

Eric narrowed his eyes, “I know that’s not what happened, Davie.” His knuckles turned white as he gripped the black leather of the steering wheel.

“If I told you, would you come pick me up after school?” David mumbled and pulled the coat tighter around himself, the question redundant the moment it left his mouth. 

Only the sound of the rain hitting the windshield responded to him. 

“I really am sorry. Fuck, let me help.” The stranger was already gathering his books up from the ground, wiping nonexistent dirt off the covers and grimacing at the tear in his duffel bag. 

David shook his head and managed to try and look the man in the eye, “No, it’s fine, I’m sorry-“ Their hands met again as he tried to take the heavy stack of textbooks out of the man’s hold. 

The man sighed and gave him another apologetic look and loosened his hold. “We can’t keep apologizing to each other like this.” He shook his head in amusement, curls dangling in his face, “I didn’t even tell you my name and here I am grabbing on your things.” 

His wide palm reached out to him once more, only this time with a wide smile, “I’m Alex Amato, fine arts major.” 

David stared at him in somewhat disbelief before shoving his books into the crook of his arm, “David Webster, English major.” He met their hands together, weary of how sweaty his palm likely was, but Alex gave him an even wider smile. 

“Listen, I feel really bad for walking into you like I did, and your bag-“ David tried to make a noise and stop him, but Alex hushed him, his eyes stopping at the crumbled guide of the campus that lay forgotten on the ground. “You were looking for your dorm, right?” 

“Yeah…” Came David’s shy reply. 

“Then let me walk you there. I know this campus is pretty tricky the first time around.” The green eyed man had a playful smile, one David didn’t mind seeing again. 

His blush burned his cheeks again but this time it didn’t feel so much from embarrassment. Maybe instead it was the warm feeling blooming in his chest. “I’d really like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter next week! (Give or take a few days lmao) if you comment it makes me happy :3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it. It may seem dark right now, but it gets so much better.


End file.
